“you son of a bitch, she said, I amtrying to build a meaningfulrelationship.you can't build it with a hammer,he said.”

“now look, she said, stretched out on the bed, I don’t want anything personal, let’s just do it, I don’t want to get involved, got it? she kicked off her high-heeled shoes… sure, he said, standing there, let’s just pretend that we’ve already done it, there’s nothing less involved than that, is there? what the hell do you mean? she asked. I mean, he said, I’d rather drink anyhow. and he poured himself one. it was a lousy night in Vegas and he walked to the window and looked out at the dumb lights. you a fag? she asked, you a god damned fag? no, he said. you don’t have to get shitty,...”

“sometimes I hate you," she said.”

“I'm going, she said. I love you but you'recrazy, you're doomed.”

“I met Betty on the street. "I saw you with that bitch a while back. She's not your kind of woman.""None of them are.”

“Zircoff," I said, "put the tomatoes away." "Piss," he said, "I wish they were hand grenades.”

“Lydia came back to bed. We didn't kiss each other. We weren't going to have sex. I felt weary. I listened to the crickets. I don't know how much time went by. I was almost asleep, not quite, when Lydia suddenly sat straight up in bed. And she screamed. It was a loud scream. "What is it?" I asked. "Be quiet." I waited. Lydia sat there without moving, for what seemed to be about ten minutes. Then she fell back on her pillow. "I saw God," she said, "I just saw God." "Listen, you bitch, you are going to drive me crazy!”